


fucking werewolves.

by canniballistics



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1676795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canniballistics/pseuds/canniballistics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Bucky Barnes is, in fact, a werewolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	fucking werewolves.

"So, lemme get this straight."

It's dinner time at the Avengers Tower, and the whole lot of them are sitting around the table: someone had insisted on steak, and Steve had been all too happy to cook for them. Only the very best cuts of meat, purchased with Tony's money (so why did Natasha have the best flank steak out of all of them?) and cooked to perfection for each. Bruce is the only one out of all of them who has a salad instead of steak, though Sam's got a small one to accompany his meat; Thor's is near to raw, and when he cuts into it Tony swears he can hear it moo. But that's not the issue here, and he waves his fork at Steve with his eyes narrowed.

"Buckshot here," and he jabs the fork in Bucky's direction, "isn't human anymore." There's a responding nod from Steve, and Tony continues. "He's a werewolf." Another nod, and Tony figures that, in a world where Norse gods, gamma radiation monsters, and Natasha exist, werewolves have to be the _least_ of his worries. "So remind me again, why aren't we, I dunno, chaining him in the basement? Tonight's a full moon, isn't it? Why is no one else worried that he's going to lose it and kill all of us?"

Clint shrugs, shoves a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and glances over at Natasha. She just rolls her eyes, daintily cuts off another bite. Steve is obviously insulted by what Tony's said, but Bucky puts a hand on his arm, shakes his head to stop him. (Are they _serious_ right now? Domesticity has no place in a discussion about _goddamn werewolves_.) Bruce is the one who actually speaks up after a second, looking off to the side as he thinks.

"That's right," he starts, "you weren't here the last time it happened." He's infuriatingly slow as he takes a sip of water, and Tony is seriously tempted to pour the entire glass over his head. "It's, it's really nothing to worry about. You can relax."

Tony stares at him after the non-explanation, incredulous, before taking in the rest of the room. Even Thor, who deals with weird things in Asgard all the time, doesn't seem to care. "Did _nobody_ catch the werewolf part? Or did you all just get _mind-blowingly_ high and not invite me?"

"Hey, that'd be a pretty good team-building exercise, wouldn't it?" Clint asks, glancing over at Sam, who just shrugs noncommittally. 

A quiet growling from the other end of the table silences all conversation (for a second, at least), and Tony looks over frantically to see the fucking _werewolf_ drop his utensils as he stares down at his plate. He still looks human, still looks like Bucky Barnes, but when Tony checks his watch, it's getting late, and he realizes with a start that the moon is starting to take effect on him. Thor is watching too, but Steve seems to be the only other one anxious about this, and Tony can't help feeling at least a little vindicated. Bruce and Sam don't look up from their meals, chatting about something while Natasha jabs Clint to stop him from grabbing something from below the table. He mutters something about a "vine", but Tony's attention is distracted away from them when Bucky's chair scrapes away from the table.

Shit. Shit. Shit, it's happening, and he knows for a fact he's not prepared for this. Tony's up and away from the table too, about to call his suit to him when Bucky lets out a _howl_. Something guttural, unnatural coming from a human throat, and he only takes one step before he collapses on the other side of the table and out of sight. Steve's quick to kneel beside him, and damn it- Tony can't see what's going on. He freezes where he is, curious despite himself; he's never seen a werewolf before, until tonight had only thought of them as mythology. (Then again, Norse gods had been mythology until recently too.) 

After a shaky minute filled with growls and snarling, he can see Steve's shoulders relax from the other side of the table, hear him murmuring something. The sounds quiet down, and Tony frowns. Normally, at this point, he would have expected the table to be shattered to pieces and for Cap's head to come flying across the room. Right? Werewolves are supposed to be violent and ruthless. So what's going on? Steve stands, his back turned to Tony and head bowed, and that confuses him even more. 

What the hell is going on?

When he turns around, though, Tony narrows his eyes. Why does Captain America have an oversized cotton ball in his arms? What is going on here? Thor utters a quiet "aww" as Natasha smiles, and when the cotton ball moves, Tony feels like he's losing his mind. The cotton ball has a nose. It has a face. And a...tiny tail. What.

 _What_.

"I told you it wasn't anything to worry about, Tony," Bruce supplies, and the tiny gray dog yips at him before putting its paws on Steve's chest, trying its hardest to lick at his chin.

"No," Tony starts, pointing at him as he stares at the dog. "You, just- just- just shut up for a second." Bruce shrugs, resuming his conversation with Sam as Tony switches his glare to Steve. "Lemme get this straight." Steve looks up at him. "That's Bucky." There's a nod. "This is what he turns into on a full moon." 

Steve just grins a little. "Wanna hold 'im?"

And Tony just throws his hands up in the air. "I'm so done with you people," he says as he storms out of the room.

 _Fucking werewolves_.

**Author's Note:**

> just something silly I wanted to write for my boyfish. [this](http://spaceconfessional.tumblr.com/post/86348600142) is the sort of dog he's turned into. C:


End file.
